


Option Two

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: 2020 Charity Fundraiser One-Shots for RAINN [16]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Quickies, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, War Table (Dragon Age), War Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: There's two options. First, Garrett Hawke could try and sneak the Inquisitor back up to her bedroom....or, option two, the perfectly serviceable war table right in front of them.
Relationships: Male Hawke/Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Male Hawke/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Series: 2020 Charity Fundraiser One-Shots for RAINN [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913077
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	Option Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brookie4cookies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookie4cookies/gifts).



> This is part of my Charity Fundraiser! All of the proceeds go to RAINN.org to help survivors of sexual violence. Thank you to brookie4cookies for donating and letting me write the CLASSIC "bang the Inquisitor on the War Table" trope that I adore. 
> 
> Cullen disapproves SO HARD.

If he had planned it properly, he’d have done things slightly differently. 

First and foremost, he’d have worn _anything_ except full armor because he could not get out of it fast enough. He swore a small, broken piece of his gauntlet hit the floor before he tore the rest of it off, listening to the unholy clatter it made with only the most mild of concern. 

He had better things to worry about, chief among them the beautiful woman leaning against the table behind her, breathless and dazed. Color rose in Ophelia’s face, her kiss swollen lips parted on an exhale of breath that _sounded_ like ‘Hawke’. Her braid, that _damn_ braid of hers, was coming unraveled just like he was. Wisps of dark hair escaped and clung to her pink cheeks. 

Garrett Hawke _should not_ be contemplating how to bend the _Inquisitor_ over the war table. It was quite possibly one of the worst ideas he’d ever had in a life full of _really bad_ ideas. As Varric said, quite correctly, the Champion of Kirkwall wasn’t known for his decision making skills. 

But damn if Garrett could regret a single one of those poor decisions if they led him to here and now. 

The other gauntlet clattered to the stone and he reached for Ophelia with nothing but _hunger_ , like a templar snatching at a vial of lyrium with shaking fingers. 

She threw herself into his armored chest, twining her arms around his neck and tugging at his hair, pulling his mouth back to hers with impressive enthusiasm. Her tongue pressed against his lips insistently and he captiulated, allowing her to plunder his mouth. 

Who knew their little Inquisitor was as fiercely strong willed as any seasoned commander? No _wonder_ the hole in the sky spit her out. Garrett wouldn’t cross her either with _that_ look in her emerald eyes. 

The sameexpression she wore when she pulled away, yanking on the gorget that kept her lips from tracing down his neck. He noticed her own fingers seemed to be shaking with the same blinding need _he_ felt screeching through his veins. 

“Take it off.” Ophelia pleaded. “Hawke, please, take all this-” 

She didn’t need to ask twice. One hand reached for the clasp on his breastplate, the other reaching for her like a man possessed, clutching her soft form to unyielding steel. Her swift fingers climbed to the other latch at the same time he undid his. 

The sound of the plate crashing to the stones was, thankfully, muted by a rich crimson rug on the ground. Still, they both froze, a scant inch apart. Ophelia’s eyes were wide, blown dark as the forest floor by desire. This close, he could see her pulse thudding in the hollow of her neck, feel the heat coming off her in waves. 

He tried to listen past the hammering of his own heart for the sure, quick steps of Josephine coming to investigate. The moment dragged on. His eyes jumped over the red flush staining her cheeks, the sweep of her lashes. 

“Hawke.” She murmured, her fingers threading through his hair. “Hawke I want you.” 

“Garrett.” His own name sounded broken in his mouth, rusty. When was the last time he’d heard it? “Call me Garrett.” 

She yanked his lips back to hers, breathing softly before she pressed them together. “ _Garrett_.” 

He hissed his pleasure, pulling her back to him in a second, moulding their bodies together while their tongues pressed against each other. It took only a few steps to have her back against the large slab of wood once more. She made a surprised hum, breaking their kiss. 

“We’ve got two options.” He breathed, letting both hands settle on the curve of her waist. 

“Option one?” She asked breathlessly. 

“We right ourselves as much as we can and make a run for it through the hall and to your door, hoping you’re _actually_ favored by bleeding Andraste and nobody stops us.” 

Garrett saw her weighing the odds in her mind, her kiss swollen lips tugging down into a frown. “Option two?” 

“Me. You. This very sturdy table and an equally fervent prayer that nobody comes looking for you _or_ me.” He offered, shooting a meaningful look at the map littered surface and all the pretty markers everywhere. 

Splaying her on this table like he’d imagined her up against _every_ surface since he’d seen her in Crestwood sounded _amazing,_ but was probably _idiotic._ Her advisors could come back. Hell, Varric had barely left his side since they got to Skyhold. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been caught with his pants around his ankles by the dwarf, but dammit if he wanted to keep repeating the pattern-

“Option two.” Ophelia decreed. 

_Garrett’s hands had never dropped to his belt faster._

By the time he had it off, Ophelia’s shirt was already gone, flung somewhere across the room with the same decisiveness he couldn’t admire more. Momentarily disarmed, Garrett let his eyes feast on the skin exposed for his perusal. 

Ophelia took the advantage in a heartbeat, throwing herself back into his arms. Her warm hands yanked the undershirt up and then her fingers traced over the planes of his muscles while her lips tipped up for another kiss. 

Truly, who was Garrett to deny her what she wanted? He slanted their lips together while he took his time tracing the toned form she kept hidden beneath her clothes. The band hiding her breasts was an obstacle that made him growl and push her back until her ass hit the table while he tugged it off. 

The breasts he revealed made his mouth water. Her chest rose and fell with her gasping breath, nipples hard before he even brought his rough palms up to cup them. They fit perfectly in his hands and she hissed through her teeth when he gently squeezed the firm flesh. He smirked, catching the hard tips with his thumbs. “Sensitive, Inquisitor?” 

“Ophelia.” She demanded, sparks flying in her green eyes. 

Garrett’s grin was probably just a hint too sappy, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care when he repeated her name in a whisper. “ _Ophelia._ ” 

She lunged for him again, yanking his shirt over his head before crashing back into him. Her hands tugged at his hair, her breasts pressed against his chest, and suddenly _all_ Garrett cared about was getting her on that table. _Now_. 

One broad arm scattered markers and maps behind her back. The other circled her waist, making sure to get a general feel of her plump ass before he hoisted her up onto the edge of the table. His fingers tugged on the pants she wore, inching them down her creamy thighs while their tongues twisted together. 

They didn’t break until he hit her boots with a muttered oath and a giggle on her part. He bent quickly and tugged them off, sending them crashing with dull thuds behind him before he stopped, finally taking in the whole _gorgeous_ picture in front of him. 

Then, with a wry smile, Inquisitor Ophelia Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, Miss far-too-good-to-be-true herself leaned back on the palms of her hands and spread her thighs _just_ enough for Garrett to get a good look at a slit covered by neat wisps of the same dark hair, glittering with arousal. 

...well, this whole series of events may not have been the result of his _smartest_ decision, but it was certainly one of his _best_.

He wanted to take his time. Really work her over, kiss every inch of her until she was a moaning, keening mess in his arms. _Then,_ and only then, he’d sink into her while she whimpered his name. Unfortunately, with time of the essence, all he could do was pull her back in for a bruising kiss while he dragged her to the edge of the table. 

His cock passed over her slick folds and they both moaned, eyes swinging from where they were nearly joined back to each other. Garrett swallowed, hard. 

“You sure, Ophelia?” He rasped. “Cause I’m not gonna lie. You could do a bit better.” 

“I don’t _want_ anyone else.” Her fingers grabbed onto his biceps, dug into the muscles there. “I want _you_ , Garrett.” 

The magic words he needed to hear. Frankly, the second they slipped out of her lips, nothing could stop him from changing the angle of his hips and parting her folds with the head of his cock. She moaned, her head falling back, but Garrett had to watch his thick cock part her flesh slowly and surely. 

Hilting inside her was nearly enough to make him weak in the knees. He paused, breathless, watching as Ophelia gasped for breath, clawing at the wooden surface she was perched on. She was _so hot_ , so tight… 

...and then her muscles rippled around him and he nearly saw stars.

“I’m not gonna last.” He growled. Her walls clenched on him again and it trickled into a moan. “ _Especially_ if you keep doing that.” 

“Fuck me then.” She pleaded, raking her blunt nails over his shoulders. “Garrett, fuck me-” 

With a groan he withdrew from her clenching heat only to thrust back in. Her words caught on a choked moan of want that echoed in the room, but Garrett was far past his worries about getting caught. 

Or really _any_ worries at all. Corypheus himself could dance right in and Garrett wouldn’t even notice. Not with Ophelia arching up into his thrusts, her body trembling, breasts bouncing. That braid of hers was almost completely unraveled by their activities, his fingers sunk greedily into her thighs with each snap of his hips. When one of her hands sunk between the juncture of her thighs to play with the little nub crowning her sex, the resulting fluttering of her muscles made heat curl in his spine. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He panted. “Look at me. Look at me, let me see those pretty eyes of yours.” 

Those emerald orbs fixed on him just as her walls seized his cock in a vice like grip that _ruined_ him. She cried out a sound that could have been his name, spine going rigid as the pleasure washed her away. 

He couldn’t help following, jerkily thrusting several more times before he too lost himself in her depths, spilling into her welcoming body like he’d been longing to since he saw her. The roar of blood in his ears, the smell of her arousal, the heat…

It was too much. And at the same time, completely perfect. He held himself on his shaking arms above her on the table, watching her try and catch her breath. A part of him greedily stole away the curve of her lashes on her cheek, the sparkling flush of her cheeks. 

“Ophelia.” He murmured, reaching up with trembling fingers to tuck her hair from her cheek. 

She smiled, reaching out to capture his hand with hers and hold it to her cheek. “Garrett.” 

_Garrett_. Garrett Hawke. His name had _never_ sounded sweeter. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in reading more of my work, you can find me at [@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold](https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/).


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